I set the pheasant feather down beside me, hoping mother and father would not be irked at receiving a letter written in blood. I doubted they would mistake it for human--we bosmer had always been trained to waste no part of the animal. The pheasant from which I had plucked the feather was roasting above the fire, casting eerie shadows on the cave ceiling. I laid back on my bedroll with my hands behind my head, waiting patiently for the bird to enter an edible state.
I considered the fact that it was unlikely I would see my family again for at least a few years, mulling the thought over in my head, waiting for it to sink in. Perhaps it already had, and I simply wasn't as sorrowful as I had anticipated. I knew the events of late were unfortunate, but I could not help but look ahead with optimism. I gazed off at Masser and Secunda in the distance, visible only through the small entrance to the cave, as if a magnificently vivid painting hung on the wall. I am free from all the constraints of civilization, I thought. Free to go where the wind takes me--free to follow my own path. A smirk stealthily crept its way across my lips. However, glorious adventure would have to wait until the morrow, as my stomach was aggressively reminding me how empty it was, and my body was all but spent. I had gathered fresh snow from the mountains in my flask, which was now melted, and the pheasant was surely ready. Now that I was warm, safe, and in possession of food and water, I could finally sleep with a full belly, wet lips, and both eyes closed. The next morning would mark a new beginning.
I awoke the next morning to the light of the rising sun, filtering through a thick layer of mist onto my face. Looking out of the cave, I could see the day was young and vibrantly beautiful, and I hadn't even seen it in its entirety yet. I eagerly strapped on my quiver, pulled on my boots, grabbed my bow, and set off. I was somewhat sore, but invigorated. I ducked through the narrow cave entrance and stepped out.
Once I emerged into the open air and stood up straight, I had to pause to allow all my senses time to register my new environment. A blanket of mist had settled over the pines, the sharp smell of pine needles pierced my nostrils, and the brisk air raised goosebumps from my skin. Skyrim was a cold place, just as I had been told, but I felt no discomfort. I felt more alive than I had in years. Inhaling deeply, I set off down the path with a spring in my step, listening to the soft symphony that seemed to be emitting from every tree in the forest--the birds sang in such perfect harmony that I felt I was walking through a living, breathing, being--a sensation I had not felt for some time. Bushes rustled, and the dirt trail on which I walked was bounded across by the occasional rabbit or fox. The game was clearly plentiful in this forest, but I knew I would not need to hunt again until at least tomorrow; the leftover pheasant in my pack would see to that. I make a point of only killing when absolutely necessary, be my prey animal, mer, or man.
The Green Pact had always puzzled me, as it seemed a shame to kill animals rather than reaping the fruits of nature, which seemed to be handing us our needs on a silver platter, but in my eyes, anything the Thalmor are trying to outlaw should be practiced with the utmost vigor. Though the Thalmor had succeeded in their efforts to illegalize it, our family had always abided by its conditions, but we were careful to kill only what was necessary. I pride myself on my devotion to our culture, but I must admit I was eager to experience all that nature had to offer in an area free from the limitations of the Green Pact. After all, the fruit of a tree left untouched will rot away, becoming ugly and producing a foul odor, eventually wasting away into nothing. The same can be said for a flower; beautiful in bloom, but left to its own devices, it will wither and die. When there is nothing left to live for, I thought, I would rather give my life for the good of another than wither and die slowly and painfully, devoid of all dignity.
It was then that I came across a berry bush a mere five paces off the path. I eagerly plucked one from its fragile branch, being extremely careful not to harm the plant itself--that was a principle on which I would never compromise. Bringing the berry to my lips, I savored the moment of tasting my first fruit. I was very startled when my teeth punctured the small morsel and juice spurted from it. The taste was so strange--it was not savory or salty in the slightest, and yet it stimulated the taste buds. I wondered how anyone could eat the things for a meal, as they provided no satisfaction, but still I reveled in the new experience. With care, I harvested as many as I could, a large handful's worth, then popping them one after another into my mouth as I walked. Suddenly kicking myself, I remembered that some flora can be poisonous. I had gotten lucky with the berries, but I would have to be more careful moving forward.
Realizing I had no idea where I was going, I pulled from my pack the map of Tamriel I had brought from Cyrodiil, which I had folded to expose only Skyrim. I wished for another with more detail, but this one did display the hold capitals, and I was able to discern my general location. It appeared I was somewhere in Falkreath hold, and I guessed I was not too far from its capital. I still had no idea where I was going, but at least I had some idea of where I was. Putting the map away, I continued on, basking in the serenity of the misty forest.
I felt the slightest hint of wind against my face, and slowly, silently, pulled my bowstring back--the wind was blowing my way, keeping my scent from the keen nostrils of the rabbit I had in my sights. It was a clear shot, and the creature was good and plump. I had eaten the last of my pheasant the previous night, and, it now being midday, I was starting to get hungry. I was wary of sleeping out in the open in this foreign land, and since I hadn’t been able to find another cave the previous night, I slept in my natural habitat--a tree. Using the straps of my pack to secure myself to its branch eliminated the danger, but I can’t say it was comfortable, especially after spending the whole day walking. The branches of Skyrim's trees were like twigs compared to those of Valenwood's graht-oaks.
I took a deep breath, relaxed my muscles, and released. Just as my fingers were leaving the string, however, the rabbit suddenly bolted, as if frightened by something. My arrow struck the dirt where it had been sitting a moment before. Damn it, I thought. What could have spooked it? I had a mind to give chase to the animal, but thought better of it. There was no way I could have alerted it, and I wanted to see what had. I pulled my arrow from the ground, put it back in my quiver, started in the opposite direction the rabbit had run, and, not even a minute later, rounded a bend and found myself in front of a cave. But more importantly, a man crawling on his stomach away from the entrance, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
It took every ounce of energy Valdr could muster to drag himself away from the cave. I shall soon see you both again… in Sovngarde, he thought. Suddenly, as if Mara herself had taken pity upon his plight, a figure emerged from the forest. A young wood elf stood there, staring at the nord in disbelief. The bosmer was tall for his kind, about five feet seven inches, with a fairly short but shaggy mop of chestnut hair and a light, almost peach complexion. “Mother of Y’ffre,” the bosmer said, rushing to the his aid.
“Help,” Valdr croaked haphazardly, as if he cared not whether his pleas were answered. The bosmer helped him onto a log, and began examining his wounds.
“They just came out of nowhere,” Valdr said to no one in particular, staring off into the distance.
“Who did?” The elf urgently inquired. “What happened?” He produced a tunic from his pack, and began ripping it into strips.
“Spriggans,” said Valdr. “We tracked a bear to this cave. Good coin for those pelts. We were closing in on her, then there they were. Three of them. Niels went down before we even knew to run, but Ari almost made it. She was so close…” he trailed off. his eyes glazed over, and tears began to form in their corners.
“I am truly sorry.” The elf was hasty, but he sounded sincere. “That should stop the bleeding for now, but you need proper attention. Do you know how far we are from the city of Falkreath?”
“About a half hour’s walk,” he replied, wincing from the pain. “Just came from there. It… it was our home.”
The stranger quickly bandaged the strips tightly around his wounds. It seemed a familiar task to him. “Thank Y’ffre. Can you stand?”
“As long as the bodies of my friends are in that gods-forsaken cave, I’m not going anywhere.” His voice faltered, but his countenance remained steadfast.
The elf sighed, and began again in a calmer tone. “I understand your pain, friend. Truly, I do. But you’ll be joining your friends very, very soon if we don’t leave this very second. If we’re lucky, there will be an experienced healer there with a big heart and a bigger purse.”
Valdr turned to look the stranger in the eyes, tears streaming down his face, and said firmly “I would rather join my friends this very second than live down the shame of leaving them to be eaten by those vile monsters.”
“Believe you me, I know how difficult it is to let go,” the bosmer said with empathy, getting up and sitting beside Valdr on the log. “But if your friends really have gone from this life, then they are not in that cave at all, they are in another realm. Serving other creatures is an honorable purpose for a body one no longer has use for.”
“Maybe you savages let your honored dead be devoured by beasts, but not I!” the nord cried out angrily, his voice wracked with sobs. The elf did not seem offended by the prejudiced remark, but sympathetic. Valdr calmed down a bit, and his voice took on a slightly darker tone. “You any good with that bow, tree elf?” He said with a grunt, still in excruciating pain.
“Afraid it’s strictly ornamental.”
Valdr wondered how this wood elf could make smart remarks at a time like this, while still acting so damn understanding. It was hard to take offense from him. “You expect me to believe that?”
“I’m not going to kill the spriggans, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
“Then what use are you to me, damn it!”
“Aside from being your one and only savior from a slow and painful death, I’d say I’ve been positively useless,” said the elf, smiling wryly.
Part of Valdr wanted to punch this elf square in the jaw for being so flippant, but he could tell that there was sincerity behind his sarcasm. The life saving was a fair point as well. “I appreciate it,” he grunted, “but I’m afraid it’s been for naught.” With great effort, he managed to stand. “Either I kill those sons of bitches...” He winced with pain, stumbling and almost falling over. “Or I go to Sovngarde with honor.” He knew which it was going to be. There was a moment of silence as he dragged himself to the cave opening.
“Wait,” he heard the elf say from behind him. “I… I’ll see what I can do.” He picked up his wooden bow, engraved with the most elegant of patterns, and walked ahead of Valdr.
“Thank you,” he said with the utmost sincerity.
“Don’t thank me yet,” replied the elf, walking slowly and cautiously through the opening in the rock.
Valdr limped behind him until he reached the entrance, peering in and watching the stranger descend further into the voluminous cavern. Who was this outsider? Why was he risking his life for a nord he had met not five minutes prior? He had a thousand questions and zero answers; he didn’t even know his name. The elf was obviously a skilled hunter, moving through the shadows with barely a sound, an arrow already nocked and ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice. He stopped, and Valdr could see that the bosmer had spied the bodies of Ari and Niels. Ari was sprawled out on the path leading out of the cavern, but Niels was out in the open, in the middle of a large clearing.
The elf crept out of the shadows, looking around for any sign of danger, before swiftly running toward Ari. He knelt down in front of her lifeless corpse, obviously puzzled by the lack of any and all signs of injury. She had fallen to the spriggans’ magic, the last of the energy drained from her body a mere hundred feet from safety. Suddenly, Valdr’s eyes widened with horror as one of the monsters rose from the trunk of a tree, materializing right behind the bosmer and raising its claw in preparation for a strike.
“No!” Valdr shouted, recklessly running into the cave, but immediately clutching his side and falling flat onto his face. The spriggan’s attention was averted from the elf toward Valdr, and it was upon him in less than a second. The other two spriggans also emerged, moving towards the elf with unbelievable speed. Valdr braced himself as the spriggan in front of him lifted him into the air as it would a feather, and drew back its massive wooden claw, poised to strike.
As he said his last goodbyes, Valdr suddenly heard the bosmer cry out “Wait! We mean you no harm, I swear!” The elf’s eyes were wide and his breathing heavy. “Surely creatures such as yourselves can understand me.” Valdr could believe what he was hearing. Was the elf trying to reason with these beasts? Much to his surprise, the spriggans halted. There was no way they could speak, was there? Did they even have mouths? His question was answered when a bone-chilling, inhuman sound rang forth from seemingly the entire cavern, violently rattling the branches of the trees as if they wind itself carried the words. He couldn’t even tell which of the spriggans was speaking.
“You invade our home, in the company of the one who seeks to take life in exchange for wealth, bearing the instruments of death, and then insult us with your feeble attempts to deceive. Your lies fall on deaf ears.” The spriggan holding Valdr raised its claw once more. What are you waiting for? he thought. Shoot it!
He could not believe his eyes when the bosmer tossed his bow aside, well out of range of being retrieved, and with it their only hope of escape. Shouting to him would be hopeless now.
“Forgive me,” said the elf. “But would you enter a city of men with your claws tied behind your back?”
The spriggans stopped once more, seemingly considering his rhetoric. “Never shall we enter a place home to such foul creatures.”
“What if they had taken one of your own?”
In a split second, the spriggan holding Valdr dropped him to the ground and practically flew towards the wood elf, and all three surrounded him, their hideous faces less than a foot from his.
“Do not think your pitiful mind can outwit the essence of nirn. Your slithering tongue weaves only the path toward your demise.”
The elf was obviously going to great effort to maintain his composure, and he wasn’t doing too badly. He didn’t miss a beat before replying “I speak no deception. I am bosmer. You know I mean the woodland no harm.”
He was going to continue, but the spriggans cut him off angrily. “Do not presume to know what I know!” Whichever one was speaking referred to itself as “I,” but Valdr had no idea which one it was. Perhaps they considered themselves a single entity. “What I know is that the venom of deceit, and the fire of destruction burns within all men and mer!”
“I have no intention of lying. My friend here entered your home with the intent of killing a wild creature, for the purpose of selling its hide for gold, a sin which he will regret for the rest of his life, and I swear to you, one he will never again commit. You had every right to defend yourselves. All I ask, is that we take the two bodies you've slain this day, so that we may give them a proper burial. Would you not do the same for your kin?”
“If one of your kind slayed one of our own, we would tear their body limb from limb.”
“My word is all the proof I have that we have no such intentions,” The elf replied. “But I think we can all agree that I am in no position to do anything of the sort.”
“So you propose we let you live, so that you may run back to your cities and your villages with word of our location, that we be hunted down by a contingent of your kind, like the animals we are?”
“That will only happen if you kill us. More of our kind will come here in search of us, and if they find us dead, their desire for vengeance will be insatiable, as I’m sure you can understand.” The spriggans were silent. “But if you show mercy, show that you truly are more than animals, then this bloodshed can end. Word will spread of your kindness, and no harm will come to you from any man or mer in this hold for as long as either of us live. I swear it.”
There was a moment of silence as the creatures considered the bosmer’s request. It was the longest moment of Valdr’s life. Lying in the dirt, he wondered if his life had come to an end. The spriggans turned and gathered the bodies of Ari and Niels, dropping them in front of him. Could it be? The spriggans stood in front of him for a moment, then they each held out one arm, and a yellow glow began to emanate from them. With horror, Valdr realized they had never intended to let him live--they were going to kill him with their horrible magic after all. He was already on the brink of death, and he knew it would not take them long to drain the last of the life from his body.
He braced himself… and felt his strength returning. Opening his eyes, he realized the creatures were healing his wounds. He felt them closing up, and soon he felt no more pain. It was the most incredible magic he had ever seen. The spriggans then began to move backward, fading into the foliage. Stunned, Valdr stood up. He could see that the realization had dawned on the bosmer--they had healed him.
“This will not be forgotten,” the elf said, looking around for any sign of the creatures.
“Leave this place. Never return.” was the reply.
With Valdr feeling good as new, he and the wood elf were able to transport both the bodies. Being much bigger than the elf, he had taken the heavier Niels, and let the smaller bosmer carry Ari, who was lighter. They were about halfway to Falkreath when Valdr's crying had finally lessened enough for him to speak.
“I can’t believe that actually worked,” he said, the laughter in his voice contradicting the tears on his face. “I can’t believe you actually reasoned with those savages!”
“What do you consider to be a savage?” the stranger asked casually.
“Well, you know,” he was caught off guard by the question. “A beast, an animal…”
“Can’t men or mer be savage?”
“Well, yeah. I suppose it’s something monstrous, something that can’t be reasoned wi-” Realizing his folly, the nord looked at the bosmer to see him feigning an innocent smile. This elf had to be the biggest smartass Valdr had ever met, yet he could not help but smile as well.
“By Ysmir, you know what I mean. You really reasoned with those… creatures of the forest.”
“Is that such an impressive feat? You’re doing it right now.”
Valdr was confused for a second, then he realized the bosmer’s meaning. He just laughed. “You’re insane.”
“I prefer optimistic.”
Valdr shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Tiber Septim.”
By this point, he had learned not to question the elf’s banter. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m Valdr.”
“A pleasure, Valdr.” He smiled cordially. “I’d shake your hand, but both of mine are indisposed at the moment.”
“I still haven’t thanked you properly. Not only did you risk your life to help me, but you saved mine.”
“Well, what kind of emperor would I be if I weren’t willing to go to such lengths for my subjects?”
“I have to ask, though,” Valdr said on a more serious but not quite somber note. “You don’t know me. You’re not my kinsmen, I’ve never even met you. Why? Why do all this for a complete stranger?” he asked, expecting another frivolous reply.
“Because…” the bosmer trailed off, visibly considering his answer for the first time. “I hope to someday live in a world where such an obvious question has no need of being asked.” With that, he left Valdr to ponder his words for the remainder of their walk. But not before granting him one more real answer.
“Elwynn.”
“Huh?”
“That’s my name. Elwynn. For what it’s worth,” the young bosmer said with a wry half-smile.
Though he still knew next to nothing about this mysterious Elwynn, if that was in fact his real name, Valdr knew that was the best he could hope for. The remainder of their walk to Falkreath was spent in silence.
Prologue Table of Contents Chapter II
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